HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Friday, November 09, 2007 Ultrasound I went to the imaging center today. it was a minor scare that's stretched out over the past couple of weeks, but everything turned out okay. I am here because my body spoke last night, But I could not read its words. Placing her hand over my heart, She asks it to speak. In the first frame, I am an ocean. I contain a multitude of fish. In the second frame, I am a city, Travelling into dusk accompanied by a trail of lights. In the second frame, I am the map of a country My rivers changing its course. These are the ribs. This is the surface of skin, hard, rock-like. These are the layers of tissue beneath. The black is the black of water. And where is the stone? We wait for the appearance of black. She continues mining, in search Of stone amidst walls of rock, finds none. There is nothing, she says, only rock. The rock of life. I thank her, and leave, carrying my body with me. This body, this poem Scanned under the light, And shorn of shadows. posted by dawn # 9:09 PM Comments: sorry i was sleepy when you read it. its nice, actually. i like it. # posted by Anonymous : 10:24 PM oh thank goodness. much love, (and i love the poem) # posted by coloured light : 1:15 AM much love. :) # posted by Dawn Lim : 7:15 AM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] in my own time Second winter just a thought shorter days dilemmas and thought experiments remembering shandong in the supermarket poem raspberry the art of books [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Friday, November 09, 2007

Ultrasound

I went to the imaging center today. it was a minor scare that's stretched out over the past couple of weeks, but everything turned out okay.

I am here because
my body spoke last night,
But I could not read its words.

Placing her hand over my heart,
She asks it to speak.

In the first frame, I am an ocean.
I contain a multitude of fish.

In the second frame, I am a city,
Travelling into dusk accompanied by a trail of lights.

In the second frame, I am the map of a country
My rivers changing its course.

These are the ribs. This is the surface of skin,
hard, rock-like. These are the layers of tissue beneath.

The black is the black of water. And
where is the stone? We wait

for the appearance of black.
She continues mining, in search

Of stone amidst walls of rock,
finds none. There is nothing, she says,

only rock. The rock
of life. I thank her,

and leave, carrying my body with me.
This body, this poem

Scanned under the light,
And shorn of shadows.

posted by dawn # 9:09 PM

Comments:

sorry i was sleepy when you read it.

its nice, actually.
i like it.

# posted by

Anonymous : 10:24 PM

oh thank goodness.
much love,

(and i love the poem)

# posted by

coloured light : 1:15 AM

much love. :)

# posted by

Dawn Lim : 7:15 AM